


It's None of your Business

by awesomecookies



Series: A Gang Leader as a Professor? It's More Likely than You Think [9]
Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Angst, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Humor, M/M, Matchmaking, Neighbors, POV Outsider, Pre-Relationship, The insufferable angsty phase kids go through, This is a call out to my past self, Tutoring, Yes that one - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:41:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28967004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomecookies/pseuds/awesomecookies
Summary: "Eiji has a loose tongue and ratted us out to your mom." Was Aslan's explanation the following week when she demanded why her mom was making him his tutor now."Mr. Okumura talks with my mom?""Oh don't take it personally. Eiji is buddies with all the housewives in this apartment complex, even back in New York. He exchanges recipes with them. Don't know how he does it." He sneered. "It's the whole friendly goody two shoes-ness of his. It's practically a talent. He could probably tame gangsters and yakuzas if he tried hard enough.""Are you jealous?" She laughed at how sulky he was becoming at every word he says. "Maybe if you were nicer, people would like you too.""Fuck off brat. I'm not  jealous about that!" He glared at her. "Anyway. Tutoring. Let's get it done." He snapped at her, crossing his arms across his chest with a huff. Ass."I don't like it." She grumbled."Well I don't like it either but we're going to do it anyway.-Justine has the most insufferable American neighbor even though they already live in freaking Japan. The only explanation was the universe testing her or  the ficwhere Ash became a tutor...sort of
Relationships: Ash Lynx & Original Character(s), Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Series: A Gang Leader as a Professor? It's More Likely than You Think [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612297
Comments: 71
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's alternative title was 'opinions are like assholes, everybody's got one' which is from the lyrics of the song None of your business by salt n peppa which is the inspiration of the title haha
> 
> Lmao it took me so long to actually write this hnghh because this is me calling out my old self and me trying to put my thoughts into sense. So sorry about that. This is a self reflection of sorts and a comparison to things I see at the present. But y'all aren't interested in that. So let's move on
> 
> Like all my fics this is full of my opinions. You don't need to agree with some of them. So it might come up. Just so you know. A disclaimer of some sorts.

As far as she was concerned, headstrong usually meant some kind of quirky word used to describe women who did not take shit from other people, especially men. However in her opinion, headstrong was used as a quirky word to describe women who were "not like other girls". That was her association with it because of certain stereotypes and all of what she heard from her childhood. Regardless, Mary Justine Reeves was a headstrong child.

Or at least that was what everyone used to describe her.

_ Headstrong, headstrong, headstrong.  _ It was just another word for disobedient, someone who doesn't conform.

Her old teachers called her a 'model student', a 'good and responsible child', a 'paragon of obedience'. Teachers used to suck that shit up. Grade school teachers especially. They liked the control, they liked implementing authority. See, Justine was pretty much trained to be obedient from her entire grade school life. 

Her middle school teachers called her 'a wasted potential' at best, and 'stupid donkey' at worse. Things like 'you could do better than that. What happened? You used to be better than this' was often thrown around. By that she was sure they meant 'you used to follow every rule without question? Why aren't you doing that anymore? Get back to being obedient'. You learn a little later that those teachers never really did care about you learning after all.

So on the last leg of her middle school, her teachers called her a 'pest that was always whining and complaining'. It's not like she could do much about it. 

The old bullies in class called her a crazy demonic bitch who was an obnoxious know it all. It's something to note that they were in fact, second grade when she earned that moniker. It was a bit of a mouthful, so demonic bitch was what stuck. It's also probably because she tattled on them a lot when she was still in second grade. So then the bullies occasionally called her "teacher’s pet" and on some other occasion "bootlicker" and "tattle tits." 

Weren't second graders lovely?

She wouldn't call herself a bully per se, there was a big difference between her and them. For one, she didn't pick on those people who did nothing wrong to her. She would pick on those who messed with her though. She didn’t like starting fights, but god does she like fighting back. There’s a difference. 

If there was something you need to know about her, it's that she didn't back down from a fight, and if someone did her or anyone wrong, she would make sure to make them pay. Whether it be her ratting them out to the teachers who used to love her, or like in sixth grade where she took matters on her own hands (that involved punching someone in the face. It got her suspended, but it was totally worth it.) 

She didn't have many friends. But her classmates called her Mary. She didn't like it at all. Mary was such a common name. Either way, she wasn't the most sociable kid. She kept mostly to herself and that was fine. She couldn't care much about the other kids.

Her mom called her a stubborn mule, the sweetest hellhound, the most demonic angel from heaven. Justine wasn't sure but she was probably implying she was the incarnation of Lucifer, but okay. She was referred to as that headache that comes and goes into the room, but can occasionally be a little sweet when she wanted to. 

Her previous babysitters called her a horrible monster, a beast, the antichrist, along with multiple variations of that line. Seriously, what was up with people and comparing her with creatures from the pits of hell? 

That's probably because she used to be such a bother. And she admittedly had fun messing with them. Maybe she was a little obnoxious, that she could agree on. She wasn’t  _ that _ oblivious. 

Anyway, she had a long list of names that more or less had the same theme. If there was something Justine at least managed to take away after a little self-reflection at fourteen years old, she was a little bit of an asshole as a kid (she still kind of is now), hence she thought those nicknames were a little bit deserved as much as she hated to admit it.

To add to that list, her recent nickname would be ' _ brat _ ' from this annoying blond American next door in this apartment complex they recently moved to in Japan. Which wasn’t actually that bad compared to the other names given to her, but it grated on her nerves so, so badly.

There's probably a lot of questions why she, an American kid with obvious American features, was in Japan instead of San Francisco where she originally was supposed to be. The next one would probably be what an American neighbor was doing next door to their apartment against all odds. 

Well, those were really good questions.

To answer the first, Justine's mom was offered a better paying job overseas. So she did what any struggling divorced mother raising a stubborn kid would do. Pack up their bags and fly them halfway across the world for a better opportunity despite them not knowing a lick of Japanese to save their asses. The pay was better, and they did manage to afford a nicer apartment, but that's beside the point. 

They didn't even stay in any fun cities like Tokyo or Kyoto or something. They were in quiet Izumo, where it was filled with more ocean and temples. It was a gosh darned old town, with old people and old everything.

For the second question, Justine concluded that the universe must have simply decided that it would be funny to do so. There really was no other explanation to it.

"Oh Brat. It's you again. Come in, you know what to do." 

Her mom called him Mr. Callenreese. He was the American living next door, and from what her mom said, he used to live in New York who then moved to Japan, a lot like them actually. As far as they know, he was rooming together with a Japanese man and unlike his Japanese roommate who left their apartment every day for his job, Mr. Callenreese didn't. 

Then her mom had this dumb idea of making him watch over her while she worked late. And so explained why here she was, in the man's shared apartment, not too different from the structure of hers and her mom's apartment, but undeniably different at the same time as well. 

His roommate called him Ash, but to Justine, he was only Aslan (it was such a ridiculous name. Who names their kids Aslan?), who she also occasionally called  _ Ass _ . To her, he was a grumpy bastard with so much sarcasm and snarky remarks. He was scowling half the time, as if the world displeased him. He didn't actually do anything except laze around at home the whole day. He was...well... annoying. 

His routine consisted of waking up at noon (he literally just woke up when Justine knocked every day), eating lunch, watching TV or a movie on his laptop, and then falling asleep on the couch.

He didn't work. He didn't go to school. Justine also didn't know how old he was. 

"Don't you have a job?" She asked at some point because he was sprawled all over the couch in the most awkward angle while his laptop balanced precariously on his lap. 

"I'm retired." He waved off absentmindedly. Justine didn't know how old he was, but she was sure he wasn't sixty years old and Japan was a weird place to settle down.

"Don't you have anything you want to do with your life? Something you haven't done?" The more she spent time with the dude, the more she got exasperated. She had a bad experience with men who didn't do work at all, so she wouldn't even excuse herself for being prejudiced. 

"Kid, I've experienced enough shit to last me a lifetime. I'm not planning on doing anything real soon." He replied with a snort. 

"Right, how old are you?" 

Aslan paused for a moment. "Who knows? Nineteen? Twenty? Go ask Eiji, he'll know. What about you? Don't you have classes? You're--what, twelve right?" 

That irked her. "I'm fourteen, just so you know and my classes are online." She huffed with displeasure. 

"Of course you are." Aslan leveled her a look that screamed  _ 'unimpressed _ ' all over it. It was that or smug, and honestly, she wanted to wipe it off his face so badly. "Why are you having online classes then?"

"Moved in the middle of the term. And I can't speak Japanese." She begrudgingly admitted as well. 

"Time to learn then." He chuckled and spoke in Japanese just to spite her which she had no chance of translating. The pronunciation was horrendous, but it was definitely better than hers.

Ass. 

So the man was a bum. His poor roommate did all the work, probably paid all the rent too. The guy didn't even do chores. He just laid there, watching TV all day, or reading books. He couldn’t be mega rich. He didn’t look rich. He didn’t act rich. 

At that moment, he was watching anime on the huge flat screen. He liked watching stuff--movies, dramas, anime. Sometimes, it was a Hollywood movie. Sometimes a drama or a series. Most of the time, they were action packed with lots of blood and guns involved, if not the violent gory ones. She did not understand his taste at all. 

Right now, Justine recognized it as Eren Jaeger slashing through the gore. He watched it without batting an eye. Yesterday, it was Kaneki Ken doing pretty much the same. The other week, it was Yuno Gasai on a killing spree. Something was seriously up with this guy. He would snicker and snort at the killings too, as if it amused him. 

During movies with lots of shootings and guns blasting, and blood spurting out everywhere, he would actually give offhand comments about how unrealistic shit was, and then talk about the proper way to do it. He seriously took it as some kind of comedy instead of this gory show. 

It was…creepy.

Or he was some kind of know it all who pretended he was better than everyone--including in...well.. killing people. 

“Why are you watching that?” Justine finally managed to ask after hours of seeing agonized expressions on the television while they ate lunch. Aslan cooked—well actually reheated—a meal for them. (Justine had to admit that the meals were pretty good. Right now she was eating a grilled cheese sandwich with a glass of orange juice which she had not had since she was nine.) 

“It’s popular. Has some interesting plots.” Aslan shrugged casually as he poked at his salad and his glass of chocolate milk. “And I get to learn Japanese. It’s a win-win.”

If by learning, he meant 500 different ways to yell in agony together with different ways to threaten murder in Japanese, then perhaps he was right. He just really felt suspicious to Justine. There must be some kind of psychological effect to whatever it was he was watching, influencing him.

The movies and the joblessness aside, he wasn’t exactly anything different. He looked normal. He acted normal. He talked normal...mostly normal. If he did act weird though, he must have hid it well from his roommate. Mr. Okumura was a sweet soul in comparison, who Justine would occasionally catch in the morning if her mom left for work before he did, or in the evenings when he came home earlier than when her mom did.

Mr. Okumura, unlike Aslan, had to go to work, cooked their meals, cleaned the house, and on top of that, never ever seemed to complain about his roommate. He was technically a saint, an adorable man with halted accented English, but way better than that of the Japanese people around here. When Justine entered their apartment one early morning, Mr. Okumura had cooked pancakes and greeted her with a smile before leaving for his work, all while Aslan was still dragging his feet into waking.

If that didn't explain their relationship, Justine didn't know what else did. 

“Ah Justine-chan. Come in. I don’t know what you do in your apartment, but if you can just please take off your shoes.” Mr. Okumura beamed at her, and honestly who could deny such a sweet request? So Justine took off her sandals and entered the household with bare feet. She actually hated this practice. It felt too uncomfortable, foreign. But as per Mr. Okumura’s request, she would bear it.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” He questioned while puttering about in the kitchen. “Ash wakes up a little late and I’ll have to drag him out of the bed, but I think I made more than enough pancakes. He’s also very conscious about his weight.” He tsked. “Would you like some?”

Justine wanted to say that she didn’t really do breakfast because it made her nauseous. But the smell of the pancake was a little enticing, and they were shaped like bears with whip cream and syrup. Honestly, this was what Aslan woke up to everyday?!

“I guess one would be fine.” She said hesitantly, and Mr. Okumura once again beamed even brighter than before as he served the breakfast item to her on a plate, pouring her a glass of chocolate milk and another for Aslan, she presumed.

“Wonderful. Excuse me for a second.” Mr. Okumura chuckled a little sheepishly before going to their bedroom. His voice floated from the open door to the dining room and Justine stared at them awkwardly.

“Ash! Five minutes is over. I’m going to have to drag you now.”

This was followed by grunting. Then Mr. Okumura carried a deadweight Aslan, still clad in boxers and wrapped in a comforter to the bathroom, the sound of a spray of shower turning, and then a couple of grumbling from the blond until Mr. Okumura emerged from the room with a triumphant look and clutching the comforter in his hand.

“Sorry about that. Happens all the time.” Mr. Okumura folded the comforter and returned it to the room. “I’ll just get dressed for work. If he comes out and starts being an asshole, just tell me.” He said before going back to their bedroom.

Justine was just sitting in bafflement.

True enough, Aslan did come out of the shower with a scowl on his face. He sat right across her in the table and frowned. “Oh. You’re here.”

“I am. What about it?” She raised her brows.

Aslan shrugged before eating his pancakes.

“Okay. Both of you can have fun while I’m off. Ash, play nice.” Mr. Okumura patted his cheeks. Aslan snorted at this gesture. He’s such a brat honestly. “I’ll be back this evening for dinner. See you soon.”

Aslan waved him off like he didn’t say anything. It was starting to irritate her, his whole lack of care was such a man thing to do. Poor Mr. Okumura.

Needless to say, Justine didn’t like Aslan. He didn’t find him agreeable. So she spent as little time mingling with him as possible. He was just as content about it as she was anyway.

* * *

“How’s classes? How's it with Mr. Callenreese and Mr. Okumura?" 

Justine's mom was a brilliant single mother. She was the model of a strong woman who didn’t need a man. Actually she was the one who taught Justine never to take any shit from any man. Whatever stubbornness she possessed was a product of being her mother’s daughter.

Basically, whatever sense of understanding there was about family, Justine kinda knew hers was fucked up in a way. Her mom felt less like a mom and more like a friend, someone you just hang out with. The ‘mom’ was just a formality, Justine would call her Laura Jean if she could. She thought her mom wouldn’t mind if she did. Her mom was very lax about many things, but somehow protective about other things at the same time. 

If she compared her mom to other moms, she could easily say that Laura Jean wasn’t the best. Then again who was, anyway? It was in her belief that families were obligatorily there to fuck you up one way or another. They might not mean to, or they might. It didn’t make much difference. At some point they will, and you just had to deal with it.

Example, she and her mom used to fight a lot before. Especially when funds were low, that was a sure way to get into a screaming match. Thankfully, she never hit her. That got her points in her book.

The other asshole though? Not so much.

It was a shame actually, how you needed a man to make a kid. Well—the wonders of science nowadays made it that you really don’t if you had the funds. There was adoption too. But you get what she meant.

So as most sob stories had, there’s an asshole parent in the narrative. He’s no longer in the picture and they were glad to get rid of him. If there was anything it taught Justine after an entire childhood spent getting beat up and getting yelled at, together with nights of screaming matches in front of her though, it was that men were shit. She didn’t want to dwell with it. Heck. She didn’t care about his name. The faster she could erase her memory of him, the better.

She was Mary Justine Reeves, Reeves like her mother Laura Jean Reeves, not any other name. It was like that for a good reason.

"It was okay." That was a lie. She didn't actually like it. School was shit. But it was always shit. What else was new? She also hated this arrangement. In fact, she didn't like going to Aslan's apartment. She couldn't really stand the guy. 

But her mom wanted her too, and she loved her mom no matter how weird and complicated her perception of family was. It took her a couple of years to admit that in her head, a couple more to say it out loud once. Her mom wanted her to stay at their apartment because she's worried over her, and she didn't want her mom to worry.

But if she told her mom about how she didn't like Aslan, she would definitely understand.

That kinda also meant more complications.

But she was already fourteen. She could handle herself. She wished Laura Jean would give her more trust.

"Mr. Okumura let me eat breakfast with them." She said instead.

"That's good." Laura Jean said, a little distracted as she removed her coat and groaned. It had been a long day for her. She had eye bags under her eyes and she was a little pale, but still a better look than when they were in America. Japan wasn't all welcoming, but the new place was making them better at the very least. Then again, anything was better than where they were last time.

"Do you want to eat dinner?" Justine offered to her tired mom. "I can reheat some of the dishes."

"That would be nice.” Laura Jean smiled.

Yes. Justine thought she could endure just a little bit for both their sake.

* * *

With all the days Justine stayed at Aslan’s apartment, he never really bothered to talk to her for the rest of the day except when it was time to eat. He even offered a separate room for her to stay if she didn’t want distractions. It was an old storage room filled with boxes. She tried to peer into the boxes once. There wasn’t much to see, and most of them were sealed tightly. Justine suspected that maybe he just wanted her out of his sight, but that was probably for the best too.

Yet somehow one day Aslan told him not to go into her usual room. 

“Why?” 

Aslan grunted disinterestedly. “We’re renovating it.” He waved his hand like the spoiled prince he was. “Eiji wants to make it into a studio and a red room.”

“Studio?” 

“He’s a photographer. It’s what he does.” He replied. “He likes those vintage film cameras. The whole shooting, and drowning. The hanging too.” He gave a wicked toothy grin, almost like he wasn't talking about photography stuff. Damn, why does he have to be so morbid?

Justine shook it away though and decided to sit on the dining table while he scrolled through the net across her. She assumed he was scrolling through the net, he’s been doing nothing else but hum and snort at whatever was on screen. He had this bored look, his eyes were glazed over. She didn’t think she'd seen him remotely interested in anything at all. It was always either this superior expression, a bored sigh, or an annoyed snicker. 

“You got a problem or something?” His voice droned on. 

As a matter of fact, yeah she does have a problem. A tall, blond, American problem who happened to have green eyes. It was staring at her in the face. 

Instead, what she said was:

"Homework." As tersely as she could. Aslan raised a brow. There was that unimpressed look again. She rolled her eyes. She thought that was going to be the end of it, but Aslan stood up from his seat, the chairs legs dragging on the floor, and he padded all over to her side of the table, squinting at the screen.

"This is basic Biology." He murmured. 

"Yeah so?" She huffed. "I'm bad at science. Fuck the krebs cycle. I won't be using that in real life."

Aslan snorted. "Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell kid. That's all you need to know." 

Ugh. Ass.

"Ha ha. Very funny." She rolled her eyes. Truth was, she actually had trouble with her school work. She told people she was dumb. She owned it. She made it her personality, that way the insults wouldn't mean shit. But if you really asked her--and she was never going to admit it out loud--she wasn't stupid. Not really. School just failed her so much. They weren't encouraged to learn, they weren't encouraged to think. They were asked to memorize useless shit, they were conditioned to work their asses off eight hours in a room, not to mention the homework they were asked to do at home.

It's basically slavery. They were trained to do overtime even at home, wearing them down until they no longer have energy to complain, conditioning them that this was what adulthood was. No more special interest. They took whatever made learning fun and replaced it with endless labor. The capitalist trap, a cog in the money making machine. 

So she just lost interest. She gave up. It was all pointless. School was pointless. The world was bleak, cold, depressing. Facism, capitalism, or climate change was going to kill her in ten years time. 

"Krebs cycle. It's basically the opposite of photosynthesis. You know? Co2 to glucose? The plants eating sunlight like it's the most delicious fucking thing there is? It basically shits oxygen, kid." He snickered. "Krebs is like, part of the Cellular respiration--which is the actual opposite of photosynthesis. Whatever." 

"You're making it sound dumb. It's more than that, with all this ATP bullshit." She wrinkled her nose. "If it was that simple, I wouldn't be having a hard time understanding it, would I?"

"That's because it wasn't simplified." He smirked at her. "Would you really rather be pretentious? Dumbing down shit is actually a mark of a genius." 

"You? A genius? Please." That's too funny to imagine. She couldn't even picture it out.

"You'd be surprised." He pulled his chair and sat right next to her. "Photosynthesis makes glucose. Cellular respiration breaks down the glucose into energy." He tapped at the screen.

"Why don't you do my homework if you're such a smartass." She crossed her arms.

"No, I'll teach you about it because I'm such a smart ass. When you master it, you can be a smart ass too." He retorted. "Don't think you can trick me into doing your work, brat."

Justine rolled her eyes. He then decided to ramble on for the next three hours about photosynthesis, cellular respiration, the krebs cycle, so on, and so forth. Well she guessed his sarcastic comments beat listening to the screen or the long ass block of text she was supposed to read. 

When she took the exam the next day, she was surprised to see an 80% grade staring back at her about the topic. 

Huh. Guess it worked.

* * *

"Eiji has a loose tongue and ratted us out to your mom." Was Aslan's explanation the following week when she demanded why her mom was making him his tutor now. 

"Mr. Okumura talks with my mom?" 

"Oh don't take it personally. Eiji is buddies with all the housewives in this apartment complex, even back in New York. He exchanges recipes with them. Don't know how he does it." He sneered. "It's the whole friendly goody two shoes-ness of his. It's practically a talent. He could probably tame gangsters and yakuzas if he tried hard enough." 

"Are you jealous?" She laughed at how sulky he was becoming at every word he says. "Maybe if you were nicer, people would like you too."

"Fuck off brat. I'm not jealous about that!" He glared at her. "Anyway. Tutoring. Let's get it done." He snapped at her, crossing his arms across his chest with a huff. Ass. 

"I don't like it." She grumbled.

"Well I don't like it either but we're going to do it anyway." He said. "Tell me when your video call is done so we can go over your work." He said before flopping down the sofa. 

"You don't need to do it."

Aslan shrugged and acted like he didn't hear her. 

True to wait he said, they did go over her homework and she didn't ever want to admit--not that she ever would--he was actually a great tutor. She could actually understand the shit they were talking about--like  _ really _ understand it instead of just memorizing it. Aslan apparently was really smart, begrudgingly. He easily understood concepts they were talking about, and yeah--he was able to simplify it to the point that kids could understand him. 

Except there were times when he goes a little off tangent and talks about certain topics that confuses her with how fast he was talking. Like when he starts talking about physics, or sociology, maybe politics. He sometimes uses big words and gets lost in his own rambling that Justine needed to get him back down to their actual workload.

It made him even more confusing to her though. How could someone this smart not do anything with his gifts?

And another thing she didn't want to admit either (there were a lot of things she didn't want to admit when it came to Aslan) but she actually didn't mind listening to him talk about stars, or chemistry, or psychology, or politics, or sociology and history. She actually felt like she was learning new stuff. 

That's how Mr. Okumura found them one day when he got home, with Aslan sprawled over the couch, ranting about Sigmund Freud with the utmost disgust in his face while she had her laptop shut on her lap having finished all of her homework for the day. 

"Hey Ash.  _ Tadaima _ ." He said as he took off his shoes and replaced it with his house slippers. "Hello Justine-chan."

Ash paused midway to mutter a quick " _ Okaeri _ ." Before continuing his rant. 

Mr. Okumura ruffled Aslan's hair with a grin. "Yes, yes. Sigmund Freud is the absolute worst, an unethical white boy. Fuck his Odeipus complex bullshit. Now, I bought us take out from that Chinese you liked so we should eat dinner." He said this as if he was so used to the man's rant to be unfazed about it. Then he turned to her with a bright grin. "How did you get him to talk? He barely does that with anyone else."

Justine shrugged. "It's for class I think? I can't really remember." 

"Well I'm glad. Can't have him talking about Freud or Kant to me alone." Eiji beamed at her. "Do you want to eat dinner with us, Justine-chan?" 

His face was so earnest, it kinda sucker punched you into silence. "Umm…" Damn why was she stuttering now? "No, I think I should get going. Laura--I mean my mom would be home soon…"

"You sure? Maybe I should call your mom just to be safe. I have her number. She can be home late sometimes." He offered. 

"You don't have to, Mr. Okumura." Justine thought about how he didn't need to do all that. She could just cook herself some instant ramen at home. She was used to cooking simple dishes too. She was actually quite independent because her mom had to leave her at home most of the time, and in the past before coming to Japan, she always had to fend for herself.

"No no, I'm already calling her." He raised a finger distractedly. "One second--hello? Reeves-san?" 

Aslan snickered. "Give it up brat. Once he puts his head into it, not even god himself can stop him. Heck you might even hold him at gunpoint and he's still gonna do what he wants, isn't that right Eiji?" He laughed. This was the first time she saw him genuinely amused about something.

"Piss off, you silly American." Mr. Okumura covered the phone as he shot a glare at the laughing blond. "No no, not you Reeves-san. I meant the other insufferable man in this house." 

Aslan laughed even harder. It was so weird seeing him lose the aloofness in his body language. Justine wasn't so sure what to think of it. It's like he's suddenly become uninhibited. 

"Well, this insufferable man better start setting up the table." Aslan got up from the couch and unpacked the dishes from the small containers into the plates. "Brat, get up and help."

"Don't call her brat, you brat!" Mr. Okumura stuck his tongue out. Aslan simply doubled down in more peels of laughter. 

* * *

It seems like she's spending more time in the Okumura-Callenreese household than in her own apartment. Her mom was very ecstatic about it, especially with how she was picking up more shifts at work. Even on Sundays. It was an American firm based on Japan. She's a sales agent, Justine supposed, and she might need to meet clients on Sundays. 

She really didn't need to leave her with them. She didn't mind the quiet of their apartment. It feels more free, but she supposed there was some underlying trauma from her mom's part due to the shitty childhood Justine had gone through. Laura Jean felt like she's neglecting her again or something like that when she goes to work. It's just her paranoia, but if it helped ease her conscience then Justine would just have to do it.

She still hoped Laura Jean would trust her more though. 

Then after the Sunday shifts, she started going to conferences too, making her come home even later than usual. But sometimes, she needed to leave for the entire weekend cause it was in Hokkaido.

"I just don't want you to think that I'm abandoning you or something." Laura Jean said between packing for her trip. "We're just starting to settle in Japan too. Then I have to be gone for the entire weekend for goodness sake."

"It's okay. I'm actually glad your job is picking up." She said sincerely. It was nice to see her busy with her career without the stress of thinking about what was happening at home. 

"You're too kind." Her mom said as she zipped her luggage up. 

_ Thanks. It's the trauma.  _ She wanted to say.

"I'm not." Was what she said instead. 

Anyway. It was a Friday and Mr. Okumura didn't have to go to work for some reason. It was probably his day off. Justine's mom left just before noon and dropped her off before leaving. Mr. Okumura greeted her with one of his warm smiles as always. 

"Justine-chan, perfect timing! I was just cooking lunch." He puttered about in the kitchen in his apron. "Does beef stew sound fine to you?" 

"I'm okay with it." She looked around. "Is Aslan still asleep?" The room was noticeably devoid of blond Americans. 

"I made him go to a quick grocery run. I forgot a few things and I don't trust him in the kitchen." Mr. Okumura grinned. He seemed like a bubbly man too, overly enthusiastic and playful. Justine had no idea how to act around him. 

"Do you need help?" It seems only right to offer assistance, especially if Aslan didn't do any of the chores at home. 

"Do you want to?" 

"I can help cook." She shrugged. "If you want." 

"Alright." Mr. Okumura handed her an apron. "You can peel the potatoes and the carrots."

So Justine did exactly what she was told. Cooking wasn't a problem for her. As she said, she was pretty independent when needed to be. She could clean and do the laundry herself too. When they used to live together with this asshole who did nothing but laze around and did nothing, Justine had to do all the chores. Hope he was burning in whatever hell he was in today.

"You're doing great." Mr. Okumura snapped her out of her thoughts. "You might want to be careful with the slicing, though. You're doing it too hard and fast. You might hurt yourself."

Oh was she? 

"Sorry." 

"You don't need to apologise." Mr. Okumura waved off. "Is that a burn mark?"

She glanced down at her forearm. She forgot she was wearing short sleeves now. 

"Yeah. From cooking when I was kid." She explained. "Kids are clumsy sometimes." She hoped he wouldn't ask any more than that. 

Mr. Okumura nodded. "Okay. Be careful alright? We don't want another one." 

She had a lot more actually. Adding one more wouldn't change anything.

"Okay." Was what she said instead. Mr. Okumura thankfully dropped it and they continued to work. 

That's how Aslan found them a few minutes later as he marched in whole yawning and grumbling about how early it was to do errands. Mr. Okumura tutted at him before taking the bags away and sending him off to the couch. 

She was also going to have to sleep in their apartment, which was another form of ridiculous in Justine's opinion. Her mom was being too overprotective.

"Actually it was my idea." Mr. Okumura explained as he started to fix the sheets on his bed. Their room was very peculiar. 

Justine expected them to have separate rooms. There was a spare bedroom that was apparently converted into a red room and a studio which she used to have classes in. She wondered why they didn't just separate and use that room. Surely there were other places to put those boxes? 

Their beds looked like a married couple's bedroom in a old sitcom. Or maybe a double bed hotel room. It was a very weird arrangement and now Justine was going to sleep in Mr. Okumura's bed. 

"But now where would you sleep?" She didn't think Aslan was going to give up his bed, and there was no way she would let Mr. Okumura sleep on the couch. She'd rather go back to her room than let that happen. 

"On my bed." Aslan raised a brow. "Next to me." 

That was a funny idea. 

"I swear I can sleep on my own." She really was getting tired of all these babying. Especially when they were obviously inconvenienced because of it. 

"No it's really alright. I insist." Mr. Okumura was already slipping into Aslan's bed. "See? It's all good."

Aslan rolled his eyes as he shucked off his shirt and stripped into his boxers quickly enough before following Mr. Okumura into the bed. "Again kid, give it up. If he decides you're sleeping here, you're sleeping here. He's a nagging mother, I tell you. A demon." 

Mr. Okumura must have kicked him on the leg under the covers because Aslan yelped and elbowed him on the chest. 

"Don't hog the blanket." Mr. Okumura snickered after wincing.

"Deal with it princess. You better not cling to me when you sleep." 

Another kick to the leg. 

"Oyasumi!" Mr. Okumura chirped when Aslan groaned and looked at him with this funny look. Mr. Okumura smiled at Aslan then turned off the lamp when Justine climbed in bed, giving up the fight for the night and tried to sleep.

* * *

_ She was on a stepping stool, washing dishes. Her body was numb, so, so numb. Her eyes were puffy and probably red, but not as red as the mark on her arm.  _

_ Somehow she could still hear the yells. She could still feel the burn on her skin. It hurt and at the same time it was numb. There was yelling, so much yelling. The sound of the empty bottles clinking echoed. She hated it. She hated it. She hated it.  _

_ And she could still see that face, that loathsome evil face yelling, yelling, yelling. The stank smell of alcohol in his breath. She hated it.  _

_ But she continued to wash the dishes. She continued it even when her whole body was so heavy and numb, even when she was so tired.  _

_ There was yelling and yelling and yelling  _

_ She was so numb. _

Justine woke up before the sun had even risen. Her body was drenched with sweat even though the air was cold. Her body was heavy, and she felt so tired. It's been a while since she had a dream like that.

It was probably the discomfort of sleeping somewhere she wasn't used to. It was barely morning when she got out of bed to tiptoe back to her own room to take a shower. Might as well get up and start the day, she thought. 

Justine glanced at the two figures tangled together in bed on her right. 

She did take note though that Aslan did in fact hog the blanket and Mr. Okumura was draped all over Aslan, clinging to him in his sleep. She wanted to laugh. Neither of them looked so disgruntled with the arrangement though--in fact Aslan seemed to have wrapped an arm around Mr. Okumura's waist as well. 

She was starting to wonder about the relationship of these two really. How deep does that friendship go? How did they meet?

Justine shook her head and went back to her apartment. 

* * *

"Would you like to have some french toast Justine-chan?" Mr. Okumura offered. His routine consisted of an early morning jog (which was actually a feat. Seeing him back all sweaty as an experience) and immediately after a shower, he cooks breakfast for him and Aslan. Then he was off to work. 

Aslan on the other hand had to be dragged out of bed. As always.

"It's because he sleeps late all the time." Mr. Okumura explained after cooking. Justine volunteered to set the table while he shook the blond man awake. "But since I was next to him, he has no choice but to sleep early."

"You're gonna take all the space, is what you're gonna do if I don't." Aslan grumbled at him, pushing his hair back to stop it from falling on his face. Then he settled on a seat. 

"You need a haircut soon." Mr. Okumura clicked his tongue. "And shave your chin while you're at it."

"Why don't you do it for me again this time?" Aslan grabbed his piece of toast while spreading butter on top of it. "Since you hate it so much?" 

"Oh would you rather the clumsy Japanese hold a razor near your neck again?" He brandished a bread knife with a wide grin and then he threw back his head from laughter when Aslan shuddered. Justine was a little bit in awe. 

"Anyway, Justine-chan. Would you like some chocolate syrup on that?" He handed her a bottle. 

"Yeah. I'd like that." 

He beamed really brightly at her. God it's too early for this. He's always so dazzling with that face of his, it's kinda adorable actually. He acted all adorable too but with just a side of silly and mischievous.

"You're spoiling her." Aslan rolled his eyes. "You don't need to spoil teenagers. She's going to think you're mothering her too much."

"Oh shut up. You were a teenager once too when I fussed all over you." Mr. Okumura stuck out his tongue. "You jealous?" 

"Pfft. You wish." He reached for the cream cheese this time before biting hard on the toast and munching as loud as he could in front of him. Mr. Okumura rolled his eyes as he finished his meal. 

"Now now." Mr. Okumura sighed. He leaned forward to Aslan's face and pressed a small peck on his cheek. "There. Don't go pouty on me. Clean up after you eat. Bye." 

Aslan's face turned bright red even as he pushed Mr. Okumura away from him. "Yeah yeah whatever. Go to work or something." 

Justine stared between them with this wonder. Where did that come from? But now that she thought about it clearly, they had no qualms sleeping in the same bed. Mr. Okumura wrapped himself all over Aslan in their sleep just this morning. They live together, act very comfortable around each other.

When Mr. Okumura brought them dinner all the time, cooked them meals, did the chores, and Aslan would sit on the breakfast table reading the morning paper (who still reads newsprint? Everything is online now? Aslan did apparently) and they would bicker back and forth. It's almost like they were playing house in an old sitcom. Like they were some couple in the 50's except it was gay. 

Also she just remembered seeing Aslan stare at Mr. Okumura with this intense look once while he was laughing so hard about something Justine couldn't even remember what it was about. Then Mr. Okumura occasionally touched Aslan's head, patting him or playing with his hair. They share these touches all the time that were so natural even when they shouldn't be. 

They were a strange bunch. Really strange.

And then it clicked.

They were roommates.

Justine realized.

Oh my god they were  _ roommates. _

It made sense. Japan was a conservative country, especially here in this quaint town where almost everybody knew everyone and their businesses. They won't ever publicly or explicitly show it. But the implications were all over the place. Oh god. 

"So….Mr. Okumura huh." She smirked at Aslan when Mr. Okumura bid them goodbye for his job. 

"He's too old for you." Aslan immediately replied disinterestedly. 

"What? No." She groaned. Justine gestured exasperatedly at him. "I mean you and him! Are you together?"

Aslan raised a brow. 

Justine sighed. "You know? Boyfriends? In a relationship? Fucking?" 

Aslan blinked at her and then he barked a laugh loudly. Too loudly. "No." His face turned serious but a tinge of pink was all over his cheeks. "No we aren't."

Bullshit. 

She stomped her foot. "I saw you this morning all over each other in bed! You were wrapped around each other and shit." 

"I don't see how it's your concern kid. Don't go poking into other people's businesses. That's rude." He gathered the plates and set them on the sink before rolling his sleeves and doing the dishes. "And he's always like that. Eiji clings to people when he sleeps. We're just good friends." 

There's the denial. Of course he would deny it 

"You were clinging to him too! And you make this face when you look at him. You laugh more around him. You two act like those couples on tv! At least admit you like him." She exclaimed in frustration. She was observing them for months at a time now, and looking back all the signs pointed to it. They must be in a relationship. 

"Doesn't prove anything brat." He dried the dishes and set them on the rack. "Now go away."

"Hey man you can admit it. I'm not going to judge. I'm very cool with it. I used to have some queer friends back in San Fransisco too." She explain in case he might think she's one of those homophobic people. God forbid. "I'm just saying, if you want to make your relationship better, you should maybe start actually helping around the apartment. Get a job or something instead of just lazing around. Nobody wants to be with a jobless bum." 

The world was ready messed up as it was, some relationships failing because of the other party not committed enough with helping in the chores. She knew. Oh she knew. That Asshole they used to live with was exactly like that, an unemployed bum who did nothing but drink and gamble away her mom's salary dry. 

The world was a shitty place. It was full of shitty people too, and sure they're all going to die at some point--heck they were going to go extinct for all she knew, but she wasn't going down without a fight, and if fighting stubborn men as early as now was going to make one or two people better, she would. It's basically her moral obligation to help those who need help. 

Aslan sighed. "Sure kid. I'll consider that suggestion." Which meant he actually won't. Why were men like this?

"You're twenty something years old and you don't have a job. You don't even go to school. Or help around the house."

He snickered at this too. "I refuse to be a slave to capitalism."

And there's that arrogant know it all answer.

"It's not about capitalism. This is basic decency. You need to help him since you're his partner. You need to do something with your life." 

"You sound like a nagging mother." Aslan taunted. He wasn't taking her seriously, so condescending. So full of hot air. 

"And you're being a burden." She snapped, tired of him mocking her. 

At this the expression on his eyes changed. For a moment it darkened a little bit, then the green flashing brightly at her. But it returned back to that glazy detachment. She must have hit a nerve. Maybe he'll finally listen then. 

"Fine. If I tell you that I'm into Eiji, will you finally shut up?" He frowned. "I'm into him. We're not in a relationship. Don't think we ever will. Now don't tell me how to be a better partner. That advice is useless with me." 

That answer only made her feel more unsatisfied.

So when Mr. Okumura did the dishes and while Aslan was still taking a shower after dinner, Justine sat by the dining table and asked him.

"Do you like Aslan?" 

Mr. Okumura paused from the dishes, turned off the running water from the faucet, and turned to her with a confused look. "Of course I do. More than anyone in this world. He's my friend." 

"I mean like  _ like  _ him. In a 'i want to be his boyfriend' way." She clarified. Maybe it was different for Japanese people and he didn't understand what she meant. 

He simply shrugged his shoulders. "What exactly brought this on?" Now he looked concerned.

"I don't know. You guys seem into each other. And you actually look like a couple. But Aslan said you're not in a relationship so maybe you both don't know you both are into each other." 

Now Eiji chuckled as he dried off his hands with the fancy hand towel hanging on the fridge handle. "No. I don't think we're going to be in a relationship. Ash experienced some bad things in the past. He's not going to want to be with me, or maybe anyone. We're happy as friends. That should be enough." 

Bad things in the past? What happened to Aslan?

"But you love him, yeah?" 

Mr. Okumura only smiled at her, but the light did not reach his eyes like it usually did. 

"Eiji I'm done! Your turn." Aslan stepped out of the shower with a towel hanging on his shoulders as he walked to the couch and picked up a book, all dressed in his usual black boxers and a plain white shirt.

Mr. Okumura nudged her shoulder. "I have to go take a shower." And left without another word. Justine's question was left unanswered. 

* * *

"Hey, do you think Aslan and Mr. Okumura are into each other?" 

Laura Jean paused midway loading the laundry in the washer and looked at Justine with intrigue. She went right back to it immediately though. "It can be a possibility. Who knows? Why do you ask? Did they say anything to you?"

"That's what I've been saying!" Justine slammed her hand on the table. "They said they weren't in a relationship but you can tell they like each other! It's so obvious!" 

Her mom laughed. "Is it?"

"Yes!" She groaned. "Oh god, just the other day, Mr. Okumura draped himself all over Aslan on the couch when he wouldn't move. Aslan looked flustered about it for a split second. Actually they're all over each other all the time. Mr. Okumura presses kisses on Aslan's cheeks and head on a regular basis."

"Maybe he's just affectionate?" 

"Japanese people aren't that affectionate." She countered. 

Laura Jean raised a brow. "You don't really know that. You don't even know if they're gay." 

"Maybe Mr. Okumura didn't know it yet. But Aslan definitely is. He said he's into him. Mr. Okumura obviously likes Aslan too. But something is holding them back." 

"Something?" The thrum of the washer was audible. Her mom walked over to the table and sat across her, opening her laptop to start working.

"Mr. Okumura said something about Aslan with a terrible past that probably makes them reluctant to be in a relationship." Justine explained. "They need to get their shit together. I can't stand looking at them at each other like some victorian era star crossed lovers."

"I don't think it should be something you can deal with." Laura Jean pointed out. "It's a personal problem. You can't push them into opening up."

"I mean I can reason with them if they do." 

Laura Jean chuckled. "If you think so dear." 

She ignored the obvious disbelief in her tone. She could reason with them. Talking can help it out. They don't even need to tell her. Getting them to communicate with each other should get it to work. 

Yes. She nodded to herself. She was going to play matchmaker if she needed to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "--no even the way you eat noodles is wrong. Have you not learned anything from when we were in New York?" 
> 
> "Oh yeah, the last time we had ramen was in New York. Sorry no. I eat my ramen like this. And I'll always eat my ramen like this." Aslan shot back.
> 
> "I let it slide because we were in New York, but we're in Japan. You could at least try to eat it like Japanese people do. You put the rice on the leftover soup. And don't bite it! You slurp your noodles like this!" 
> 
> Justine could hear some slurping sounds. 
> 
> "I don't wanna slurp my noodles." 
> 
> "It's appreciation to the noodle gods!"
> 
> "The noodle gods?" Aslan snickered. "Is that actually part of the eight million gods of Izumo thing?"
> 
> "Yes."
> 
> "You're making this up!"
> 
> A laugh. "I'm not!" 
> 
> "Well too bad. The noodle god isn't the one eating the noodles." 
> 
> "Suck the fucking noodles Ash." Mr. Okumura actually cursing with his choppy and accented (but still better than average) english because of something as trivial as noodles kinda made Justine want to laugh. 
> 
> "Well if your mouth is so good at sucking, why don't you go suck something else, huh?" 
> 
> "Ah yes, like your tiny weiner." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the longest fic in this series. There's just too many to unpack lmfao
> 
> Also thank you for all the kind comments last time. Glad you're enjoying Justine's character which is a piece of my own self projection and last personality in adolescence. I'm basically looking at old me and having a fist fight with him hahah 
> 
> Somehow they're winning. Wtf 
> 
> Anyway here's more confusion from Justine's pov and some discovery of what Asheiji were before.

Justine actually realized that she had no idea what to do. 

It would be kinda easy if she had a job and disposable income for her to do anything. She could arrange something romantic for them. She could give them gifts and pretend it was the other one giving it. But aside from the obvious lack of funds, Aslan's unemployment literally posed a problem as well. 

Where the hell does he have the money to buy an extravagant bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates for Mr. Okumura anyway? 

So no, gift giving wasn't on the table. Extravagant ones anyway. 

Forcing them to confess was obviously difficult as well. Aslan proved to be as silent as stone when he wanted to be, and Mr. Okumura proved to be stubborn when he put his mind into it. 

This wasn't some schoolyard crush either, some teenage hormone induced attraction that's fueled with lust and self projected expectations on the other unwitting party. This was probably deeper than that, therefore harder to navigate. 

Justine sometimes doubted that though, especially with how much heart eyes they give each other constantly. Once you see it, you'll never be able to unsee it. Yeah, they act like ridiculous teenagers who's yet to go past the flirty infatuation stage, but at the same time oddly comfortable with each other enough to be very intimate.

It's like best friends pining for each other then, she concluded. She probably wasn't that far off either. Perhaps they were best friends. 

Justine also realized that in the month that she knew them, she knew nothing about them. How they met, how they came to be, why they ended up in Izumo, she absolutely had no idea.

Thus, she was going to rectify it if she wanted to get them to confess to each other. 

Justine later found her chance on a Tuesday afternoon when Mr. Okumura came home early from work after having his appointment with a customer postponed due to unprecedented reasons. 

Justine just finished classes and homework while Mr. Okumura started mopping the floor. The man just never seemed to stop working. Meanwhile Aslan was once again sprawled on the couch, browsing through his laptop disinterestedly. 

Now was the perfect time to ask. 

"So." Justine cleared her throat. "I never found out how you two met." 

Mr. Okumura stopped mopping the same time Aslan looked up from his laptop screen. They looked at her, then looked at each other meaningfully without saying anything. There was a conversation going on in there--one of the many reasons Justine thought they were in love, these nonverbal communications happened often, something about their eyes that just conveyed a coded message only the other could decipher. 

"We met in New York." Aslan finally answered after the long pause. "Eiji was brought there by a friend as his assistant photographer when I was seventeen and he interviewed me." 

"Interviewed?"

"I was assisting a friend who was writing an article about--" Mr. Okumura took a split second to look at Aslan one more time before continuing. "...gangs." 

"Gangs?" Justine laughed. "What were you? Some kind of nerd the bullies picked on for lunch money? Is that why you met? Mr. Okumura interviewed you?" Okay maybe that was a little mean of her. But somehow her gut reaction was to laugh. Sue her. It just sounded ridiculous.

Again with the exchange of stares.

"Something like that. Yeah." Aslan shrugged. "I had some experience dealing with them so it made sense to interview me." He smirked, as he yet again looked over to Mr. Okumura who snickered for some reason. Like that wasn't suspicious at all. They were hiding something. 

"No wait. There's something you aren't telling me." She held up a hand. Her suspicion was confirmed when Mr. Okumura looked nervous when she said this. He seemed bad at lying compared to Aslan. 

Aslan didn't look like someone who took anyone's shit to be picked on by gang members. There was more to this. And was interviewing a victim actually the best choice here? Why not talk to the gang itself? Was it too dangerous? 

She just felt suspicious about it because of the little expressions they were making--or at least Mr. Okumura was making. Aslan was absolutely calm. But they still looked at each other from time to time, like they haven't agreed about an alibi or a story to tell. You don't act like that unless you were hiding something. 

"Aslan was part of the gang." She declared. "You interviewed him because he was a member. Not because he was a victim." 

It would make sense. Aslan looked like the type to not take anyone's shit. He had this crass, arrogant, devil may care attitude when he talked. He definitely acted like a gang member too. He didn't help at home, and had little regard for other people's feelings. 

If he was in a gang, it would explain a lot of his behaviors. It made sense. It absolutely made sense. 

He was too pretty to be a gang member though.

"Yes. Ash was part of a gang." Mr. Okumura admitted. 

"It wasn't that big of a deal. Like you said, they were nothing more than bullies who took lunch money from nerds." Aslan added immediately after Mr. Okumura's admission.

Justine also highly doubted that. Maybe Aslan dropped out of school which explained why he didn't have a job. He's smart, but he must have lost his way. Did school perhaps fail him too? Or was he just a reckless asshole who had no interest in getting himself better, only looking for the easy way out of life. 

Still gang members weren't exactly the most reputable and reliable people. Mr. Okumura was chained to someone who probably drank a lot and might have done drugs before. Aslan's case didn't seem to appeal to her judgement any better. She just worried more for Mr. Okumura at this rate. 

"So you're a gangster." Justine voiced it out to let it sink in. "Okay cool. Aslan is a gangster and Mr. Okumura is a photographer."

"I actually wasn't a photographer before. I only started in New York when I realized I liked the hang of it." Mr. Okumura chuckled. "I used to be a pole vaulter. I went to America after an injury because I was too depressed."

At this, Aslan looked more enthusiastic. "National ranked too. He was second best in all of Japan back in his day. He could go zoom in the air and fly. I didn't really give him much thought at first glance but he's suddenly taking out this rotten pipe and soars through this wall without mats on the other side like a mad man!" He bragged like he was personally proud of this achievement even though he didn't actually do any of it.

"Wait--wait. A rotten pipe? And jumping without mats on the other side? Why?" That sounded crazy. Who would do that?

Mr. Okumura looked at Aslan again. "W-we were drunk. We made a bet. I won." He laughed airily, most likely embarrassed. His cheeks flared pink too. "I ended up in the hospital."

Aslan waves his hand in dismissal. "We don't remember much. We were drunk. But Eiji flew over the wall and I thought it was the most amazing thing I've seen." 

Mr. Okumura giggled. "Oh you flatter me."

Aslan smirked. "It's true. I haven't seen anyone do anything like it." 

This was wild. Justine was only learning about this now and the last ten minutes of conversation had been wild, almost entirely unbelievable. 

"Let's recap. An ex national ranked pole vaulter turned photographer and an ex gangster live together after--what, becoming fast friends? And in Izumo of all places." She laughed in disbelief. "What? Why? How?"

"Well for starters, I was born in Izumo. It's my hometown." Mr. Okumura beamed. "I stayed in America for two years, and because Ash hosted me and cared for me that whole time, I wanted to return the favor, so ta da! Here we are. In Izumo, Shimane." 

"So that's it? That's why you both live together all this time? Because you want to return the favor?" She tried to wrap her head around it. It sounded too much like a movie, and sure they must have been together long enough, two years even, but that doesn't sound realistic enough to be this close….right?

"Yes." Aslan confirmed Mr. Okumura's story with a resolute nod to himself. "Eiji wanted to show his hometown and I wanted to get away from New York. It was too suffocating. I needed a change of scenery." 

"We are very dear friends. I have grown fond of him while we were in America, and I might not be back here if it wasn't for him. It's only right that I let him live with me." Mr. Okumura smiled at him, eyes crinkling with warmth.

"So Aslan is just here for a quick vacation?"

"Not exactly." Aslan said. "I'm here for as long as Eiji likes to have me here. I'm going to cash in all that sweet hospitality for as much as I can." 

"Then you'll never leave if I have a say in it." Mr. Okumura laughed once again. "Prepare to be stuck forever with me." 

It was obvious they cared for each other, the way they talked about each other was a dead giveaway among many others. They value each other highly, especially Mr. Okumura. Justine supposed Aslan was barely affectionate but it still counted. 

Still. This was getting ridiculous.

"You do know that sounded like a proposal right?" She looked them in the eye with this expression that begged them to please confront their feelings for each other. "Like, if someone asks me to stay with them forever, I'd think it's some kind of love confess. Full stop." 

Aslan scowled at her words, flushing with a slight tinge of pink. His narrowed eyes screamed at her to shut up, his clenched hands knuckle white. Justine could almost hear it being yelled in her ears. Mr. Okumura didn't comment on it though. He shook his head and laughed at it airily, like the sentiment was so impossibly ridiculous, he didn't think it needed a second thought. 

"How about you Justine-chan?" Mr. Okumura said instead. "How did you end up in Izumo? Where did you live in America before? Is your father still back there?" 

Talk about evasion. There's tension released from Aslan's body language as they steered clear from that topic. Justine had no choice but to drop it since it was obvious they weren't talking about it anymore. 

"There's not much to tell." She wasn't in the mood to talk about her shitty life and his shitty family drama that's basically a cliche cookie cutter for all the angsty sob story used as a pathetic excuse of being remotely 'interesting' for certain characters. 

Who actually had a happy family? Everybody had an issue with their family. Justine wasn't an exception. True happy families were as real as unicorns with rainbows shooting out their asses, the tooth fairy, santa claus, the easter bunny, or trickle down economics. It's a myth. 

Mr. Okumura was having none of that though. "Oh but it's only fair since we've shared some about our lives. And I would like to know more about you. We're friends now aren't we?" 

Damn. He's good. 

"Well…" 

Mr. Okumura's face changed into worry. "Oh no. If you're not comfortable with it, you don't need to say anything either. Forget I said anything." He fussed about it and waved his hands as if trying to blow that statement away from the air, or to gesture an act of dismissal. Now Justine was forced with guilt in the social exchange. Obviously she'll look like an asshole if she didn't say anything. Ugh social interactions was a menace. 

"No it's fine. We used to live in California, in a smaller apartment than this. My mom was promoted in her job, and so here we are now." The last question was a sensitive topic. If they can get away with not answering all her questions, she could do it too. 

"Ohh. Yes, your mother did mention liking the beaches in California. We went there too, didn't we Ash?" Mr. Okumura's face lit up in recognition, clapping his hands together. He's very animated sometimes, especially when he's enthusiastic about things. 

"That was L.A. They live in San Francisco." Aslan shrugged at Justine's questioning look. How did he know? "Hey, Eiji's not the only one who talks to your mother. Anyway, L.A. my ass hurt sitting on that shabby old truck." 

"Ah yes. The ride from New York was pretty long, and you stole chickens on the road." Mr. Okumura laughed. "I had to say, I never knew Americans were that crazy. I was surprised to see you come back running with a live chicken on your mouth!"

"Hey, give us a little credit! Without Shorter and I, we'd have gone hungry that night." Aslan huffed. 

Chickens? What? And what was a Shorter? Was that actually some guy's name? The more Justine heard about these two's backgrounds, the more absurd they sounded. 

Mr. Okumura once again laughed, but softer this time. He then fell into a sober mood after the laughter died out. Even Aslan looked more glum. The room was very different from a while ago, some kind of gloom settled in the air. They both looked a little contemplative.

"Anyway." Aslan cleared his throat, blinking away whatever thoughts plaguing him. "That's enough down memory lane. What for dinner?"

Mr. Okumura sighed before going back to his usual smile. "Let me finish mopping and I'll start making hamburger cutlets."

"Can you make it crispier? It wasn't crispy enough last time." Aslan snickered. "You're losing your touch."

Mr. Okumura stuck his tongue out. "On second thought, I changed my mind. I'm cooking natto tonight."

"Jesus. Have pity on the kid Eiji--Eiji!" Aslan got up from the couch as Mr. Okumura sauntered to the kitchen, opening the fridge and taking out a plastic package with a wide grin. Aslan tackled him from behind.

The last Justine heard was Mr. Okumura's smothered cackle before the loud crash of pots and pans, followed by groaning and a few wheezes. 

They literally made no sense to Justine sometimes. 

* * *

Okay so Justine was even more confused after that whole interview with how out of context some of their anecdotes were. She did find out that Mr. Okumura was a pole vaulter (which explained why he was a bit ripped underneath the small layer of softness from his retirement), he was an assistant photographer, and he met Aslan in New York because of that. She also found out that Aslan was a gang member for goodness sake. 

They do share a couple of inside jokes, they communicate with each other wordlessly, they touch each other a lot, they have intense eye contacts a lot, they tease each other and basically flirt shamelessly in front of her! They have chemistry! How were they not in a relationship?! 

It was just not adding up. 

Again, they obviously like each other. That wasn't a question at this point. The problem was how they still seem to be in this pining stage with how much longing there actually was between them. The tension was so thick Justine could cut it like a bar of butter using a dull butter knife. 

Even though they were very intimate with each other, the furthest they've gone were only hugs and sleeping next to each other at night when Justine went to sleep over. They didn't kiss, they didn't hold hands, and they probably haven't made out yet. Justine liked to think that she could figure out if two people were fucking, and the look on Aslan's face was pretty clear that they were not fucking yet, or anything near that stage. There was too many things going on in there. 

She found that it was harder to read Mr. Okumura with the more private matters such as emotions and opinions, especially with him mostly out of the house. Justine's partial cohabitation with Aslan made her a little privy to his moods and emotions to some extent. Don't get her wrong, he was still a fucking mystery to her, but at least he wasn't always plastering a smile or redirecting the subject when asked about his feelings.

Where Mr. Okumura shows all his surface emotions but keeps all his more controversial and messier thoughts to himself, Aslan locks whatever he is presently feeling and hides it behind a screen of an impenetrable calm and almost bored expression but perhaps unknowingly shows what he really wants deep down to everyone if you knew where to find it. Justine wasn't sure if that was intentional, or if he didn't even notice how much of his longing bled out of his eyes. 

All of this was subtle of course. The observation crept like a vine in the concrete, shooting up from the cracks and taking root without anyone even noticing. But Justine did notice, it was easier to notice these things when you're stuck with the two as your only source of company, like a man who had no choice but to walk in the same street everyday, finally noticing the small vine curling up into life. You were bound to notice these little things. 

Despite all the remaining questions, she couldn't ask them too often. Aslan would get suspicious or annoyed, and Mr. Okumura had a very fine way of avoiding the subject. She would be immediately shut down before she could even start matching them. Damn it. They made her job harder than it already was. 

They don't go out together either. Not much at least. There were probably once or twice where they went out into something close to a date which were more often than not grocery runs or errands. They used to eat out before Aslan was regulated to the babysitting duty, Justine supposed. He claimed to not be so comfortable with walking outside in the crowd for whatever reason. 

Justine was terrible with the language though, and the place was still foreign so she could sympathize a bit even though Aslan was already proficient enough for small conversations in a Japanese but he acted very against the idea of going out that much. 

There was a different kind of comfort in speaking your own language. So maybe Justine had to begrudgingly acknowledge that she might be glad to have someone to speak English freely other than her mom, even if the cost was talking to someone annoying like Aslan. 

It didn't change the fact that it was a bit lonely. Aslan probably didn't have friends here either beyond Mr. Okumura and Laura Jean. Well, Justine wouldn't consider him her friend, but they've developed a certain acquaintanceship that was at least convenient for them. 

Justine herself didn't have many friends growing up, but she wouldn't say she didn't leave behind a few people back in San Francisco. 

Back when she was in kindergarten, she had someone to hang out with at least. Kindergartens basically made everyone in the class their friend. Guess that didn't really count.

Then there was that other blonde bitch in grade school, Susan, was it? Justine just wanted to cringe at the idea that she hung out with her. She was fucking terrible. They're kind of those kids who were bratty because they were left by their rich parents unhinged. She was such a diva, claiming the sandbox for herself and forcing everyone to make sandcastles because that was what she wanted to see, and then she started kicking the other people's creations and threw a tantrum. Oh god. 

There were others who weren't that cringe worthy though. Mostly they were just a bunch of people who were also trying to survive school. The number of her acquaintances dwindled as she grew up, and she didn't mind. Sitting with the other kids in lunch while everyone else was crowded together and passing gossip wasn't in her interest. 

What the fuck did she care if someone had a boyfriend or got laid? Bullshit, they were kids. Who was getting laid? That's all make believe to elevate your status among these dumb teenagers. People really lie to look better than others. It was so dumb. Teenagers apparently like to feel superior so they talk nonsense and judge others among their cliques. 

That seriously didn't appeal to Justine and so she would rather sit alone at lunchtime. 

There was one girl who was pretty cool though. Veronica was easy going and laid back. She was mostly Justine's partner for most of the time. They hung out during breaks sometimes, but nothing really meaningful. 

Kinda parted ways after she said she was moving countries. Veronica shrugged and wished her good luck then moved on. 

There were some other people she hung out before she left for Izumo too, a couple of queer people, a couple of punks, goths, nerds. She hopped around with different people but never really staying with one single group. Being alone was the only constant thing for her at the end of the day. 

She didn't have a lot of friends before, but it definitely beats being in this country without anyone to talk to. It's a different kind of isolation. 

She wondered if Aslan was just as lonely.

Not exactly lonely. That wasn't the word she wanted. 

Isolated? 

"Have you ever gone out to sightsee?" Justine opened up one afternoon while they were going over her homework in English class. 

Aslan didn't even stop the scratching of his pen while he corrected his essays (According to him, she wrote horrible essays and needed to improve her reading comprehension because her literary analysis was so poor. It wasn't her fault literature classics were so goddamn boring! It's full of old boring people who did stupid mistakes that were easily avoidable. We get it, you committed a crime and you're getting punished. What else was there to know?) Anyway, he didn't look up as he gave a curt:

"No. Maybe a few times ago, but not anymore." 

"Why?" 

"None of your business, kid." Aslan flipped the page to the next one, and Justine could see all the red marks on her paper. It made her wince internally. 

"You got friends?" 

"If you count Eiji as one, then he is one." Aslan still didn't look up. He scanned the words on paper and tapped his pen against his lips, brows furrowed together in concentration. 

"Other than Mr. Okumura." 

"Doesn't matter. No, I don't have any. Now quiet down." His foot started to bounce as well. 

"Are they left in New York too? Maybe you should ask Mr. Okumura to go sightseeing together. Or maybe make some new friends." 

"Right back at you kid. Go make friends. Go outside. I think you need it more than I do." He huffed. He started scribbling on that page as well, writing his scathing comments on her essay. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Whatever you want it to mean." 

Justine frowned. Guess he really wanted to be an ass. 

"I guess Mr. Okumura has some friends at work. Maybe he'll go out with one of them instead if you don't want to." 

The tapping became quicker. 

"He has all the right to do so. I don't dictate how he lives his life." He scowled to himself, then in a softer voice almost inaudible to Justine, he said "I already did once. He should choose this time." 

The tapping stopped and he looked stoney, untouchable. Aslan tossed the paper on the table with an offhand comment to go over it again, before getting up and walking away. 

* * *

"What's New York like?" 

Justine questioned when Mr. Okumura asked her to tag along for a bunch of groceries. This was when Aslan suggested to him to let her get some fresh air. It sounded more like a dismissal. Why was he so darn moody? 

Mr. Okumura looked up from picking ingredients for their dinner. Justine waited for his answer as she pushed the cart to the side, letting people pass by. Everything in the grocery store was foreign, the noise, the crowd, the words. Everything was different. 

Mr. Okumura peered at the label on hand. 

"It was…very unfamiliar." He added the bottle of soy sauce to the cart after deciding. "New York--well America is very different from Japan. And Izumo, you know how it is. Americans are quite loud." He looked at her with a small smile. "Sorry." 

"It's alright." It was true. They could be obnoxious. God knew how many she had to deal back in the day. A middle school filled with kids was a nightmare. "How did you cope? You were there for two years." 

"Are you having troubles adjusting in Japan?" He had these huge puppy eyes that were all concerned over her. He could substitute one absent parent for another with all that doting.

"No it's not that. I just wanted to know." She technically hasn't been to New York either.

Mr. Okumura smiled again with that thin wry smile of his. "Ash was there to help me. I spoke terrible English, nothing more than a country boy with very little friends. Who knew what America had in store? Definitely not me." 

"He helped you?" 

"Is it so hard to believe?" He laughed. "Yes. He didn't need to, but he did. Multiple times. New York was a lot more dangerous than Japan. He protected me." Now he looked wistful, once upon a time he was miles away from home, all alone. Justine wondered if Mr. Okumura felt like Aslan too once upon a time, stuck in an apartment with very little ways to communicate with people. He must feel a little helpless. 

"Protected you? By getting you out of trouble? Calling favors from his fellow gang members?" 

"You don't seem so thrilled at the idea of Ash being in a gang before." Mr. Okumura raised a brow at her. He looked more amused than irritated. 

"I worry about you." She admitted. "He doesn't look so reliable, but it's obvious that you care for him. And I know he cared about you too which is why I want to help you two--"

"Ash is very reliable." Mr. Okumura interrupted. "Understand," he sighed. "That Ash isn't actually that mean as he shows himself to be. He's a good man, one of the best I've ever known." He looked even more distant, recalling something from the far past. "He's been through bad things because of some bad people." 

"He's still a dick." She grouched. "Bad things in the past doesn't justify him being a dick." 

An older middle-aged woman snapped at her with a glare. She must have understood enough English to know enough of what Justine said. Oops.

Mr. Okumura mouthed an apology to the woman, before chuckling. "He _is_ a dick, and yes, it's not an excuse but he's trying. Oh god, he's trying so hard." He looked down to stare at his shoes before he went back to browsing the shelves, pointedly not looking at Justine.

"It's not obvious enough." _He's not trying hard enough_. "I've seen that kind of behavior before. My old man was kind of like that and my mom--I just don't want him to be too late you know?" 

"These things take time. They're not easy, it's just not that simple." He sounded resigned, maybe even frustrated as he carded his fingers through his hair. 

"So we need to help him right?" Justine pressed. "Right?" 

Mr. Okumura smiled and patted her head like she was some kind of kid instead of a teenager. 

"Of course. We should give him all the help he needs." 

* * *

Alright here were the facts so far, Justine laid it out while she paced her room, trying to solve the mystery that was Mr. Okumura and Aslan. She should start with the basics. 

According to Laura Jean, Aslan and Mr. Okumura occupied that apartment next to them roughly a month before they arrived. Mr. Okumura was a pole vaulter now turned photographer and met Aslan, who was in a gang in America because he interviewed him for an article.

Mr. Okumura stayed in New York for two years and Aslan protected him. How he protected him, Justine had no idea. 

Bad things happened to Aslan before which was why he was such a dick. Justine had no idea if it was because, or before the gang involvement. She also had no clue what happened to him. Child abuse? Accident? There were so many factors.

(Aslan also apparently stole some live chickens once. As wild and funny as that sounded, she supposed she needed to add it to her list of facts. Who the hell stole live chickens?) 

Obviously Mr. Okumura loves Aslan with how much he put up with him, and Aslan claimed to be into Mr. Okumura. So maybe there was an important reason why they're not yet together. Maybe Aslan was playing around? Maybe he was only using Mr. Okumura for free lodging? It also looked unlikely. 

They've become so intriguingly weird that Justine started writing down what she knew about them on the back of an old notebook she owned. Nothing was making sense. But if she wanted to help them out, she needed to step up her game. 

Which was how they ended up eating out in a romantic restaurant.

"Thank you for this." She smiled at them as they settled in a private room. Oddly extravagant, but she wasn't the one paying for the room anyway. Thank God for Aslan's aversion to being seen by people, she guessed? Privacy was absolutely a big factor to the mood she wanted to set. "I haven't been able to eat out since I got here."

The room was just enough for four people to sit and eat. They sat on soft cushions while the floor was lined with tatami mats. The lights were dim and they were hidden from the outside through paper screens. It could be romantic, but mostly it was cozy enough for a relaxed atmosphere.

"It's nice to go out once in a while." Mr. Okumura beamed at her. He sat right next to Aslan instead of across him like she planned, but perhaps being next to each other had its perks too. There'll be enough touching and skin contact to create some kind of tension. 

Aslan didn't say anything though. All he did was stare at her suspiciously. If he had caught on Justine's plan then he didn't say anything. She wouldn't really know either. But perhaps he was too embarrassed to call her out for it. Calling this a 'date' would show that he's been thinking about it. Plus she was sure Mr. Okumura would wave it away in denial.

"Sake, Ash?" Mr. Okumura asked his output between dictating their orders to the waiter being the only one who can speak fluent Japanese. 

"Sure why not." Aslan shrugged disinterestedly. "No natto."

"Of course." Mr. Okumura chuckled. 

"Can I have some too?" Justine perked up.

"No sake for you, young lady." Mr. Okumura clicked his tongue. "Drinking age here is 20."

Justine pouted. "Damn." She turned to Aslan to plead her case.

"Sorry kid. I'll make sure to order you some orange juice though." He snickered. Justine should have known better. Of course he wouldn't give her some.

In the end she had cola and hamburger steak while two of them ordered ramen to pair with their sake. Well half order of ramen for Aslan and half order of rice while Mr. Okumura got an additional order of shrimp tempura and a plate of rice. Aslan snickered at the amount of food Mr. Okumura ordered but the latter ignored him with a cheerful smile. 

A glass of water was then prepared for each of them while the waiter went to the kitchen for their orders. 

"So," Justine started a light conversation to pass the time while they waited for their meals. "Mr. Okumura, what's your ideal woman?" 

Mr. Okumura choked midway drinking his glass of water. He didn't exactly do a spit take, but he definitely spilled some from his mouth to his pants out of shock. His face was red to the roots of his hair, either from embarrassment of the question or the surprise. 

Aslan snorted and passed Mr. Okumura some paper towels which the latter dabbed on himself hastily. "I'm really starting to think you're trying to hit on Eiji, brat. Again he's too old for you."

"It's a perfectly innocent question." She feigned innocence. Aslan raised a brow, clearly not buying it.

"I--" Mr. Okumura's eyes were wide. "why are you asking?" 

Justine shrugged. "I don't know. You must have a girlfriend by now. Someone as great as you would probably get a lot of admirers."

"Are you applying to be one of them as well?" Aslan rested his cheeks against his arm which was leaning on the table. 

"Ash!" Mr. Okumura shoved. He turned to Justine with a sheepish smile. "I don't have a girlfriend. I haven't had one ever." 

"Why? Are your standards too high? Not one good enough for you?" She slid her gaze towards Ash for a split second. "Or are you into foreign girls? Did you meet someone in New York and fall in love?" 

"Stop!" Mr. Okumura pouted. He really looked flustered. "Women just aren't my area."

Women aren't his area. So did that mean he wasn't interested in women? 

"What do you mean?" 

"It means he sucks at getting chicks, kid." Aslan snickered. "His baby face makes them think he's underage. Thinks they're snatching a baby from the cradle."

Mr. Okumura pouted some more and glared at Aslan, annoyed was clearly all over his expression but he didn't say anything. 

"Like you're the paragon of a ladies' man." Justine rolled her eyes. 

"As a matter of fact, I am." Aslan smirked at her. "Lots of women wanted to hook up with a gangster." Justine wasn't sure if he was just teasing or if he was being serious. She hated to admit it though, but it wasn't so hard to imagine him having women all over him. Ass. 

"He is actually." Mr. Okumura nodded solemnly. "Men and women just _love_ him. Gets annoying sometimes." 

"No need to get jealous. Only you can drag me out of the bed without consequences. You'll always be special onii-chan." Aslan laughed at the scowl Mr. Okumura was sporting. 

"Stop looking so cute, darling. You look more like a kid like that."

Mr. Okumura stuck his tongue out. 

This was what Justine meant. This was blatant flirting happening right in front of her, so unless they're a) playing with her, b) painfully oblivious, or c) living in this terrible case of denial, there was no reason for them to be...whatever the fuck this is they were stuck in. She didn't understand it. What was holding them back? 

The waiter came back with their drinks, the meals on their way. Eiji opened the bottle and shoved the tiny cup towards Ash's hand before pouring some, then to his own cup. He didn't stop scowling even as he took a sip. 

"For the record," Mr. Okumura murmured, cheeks flushed from the small alcohol he consumed. "My ideal partner is someone who's reliable. Someone kind, and understanding. Someone who doesn't tease me, and someone who definitely doesn't act superior just because he's some kind of smart ass." 

"Bullshit." Aslan picked his own cup. "You like getting teased." 

"I don't!" 

"In fact, you _love_ this smart ass." Aslan pressed further. "Can't get enough of it."

"You wish." 

Justine watched them bicker back and forth. So much for a romantic dinner. They definitely skipped the getting together part and jumped right to the old married couple who often threw jabs at each other. She wasn't exactly sure if it was helping their case. 

"Well then for the record," Aslan mimicked what Mr. Okumura said with a wicked grin. "My ideal partner aren't Japanese men who wakes me up in the morning by spraying me with cold water. They definitely aren't natto lovers. I can't ever date someone who loves natto."

"Of course they aren't." The other said bitterly. "Otherwise you wouldn't have disappeared on them and made them think you were dead." 

Mr. Okumura's eyes widened and he snapped his mouth shut, like that part wasn't meant to be said out loud. Aslan's smirk was wiped clean as well immediately after those words were uttered out loud. Justine could feel the tension in the air. 

Mr. Okumura looked away, and Aslan was just as troubled. Maybe this was the problem, this miscommunication that revolved around them and whatever it was that Mr. Okumura mentioned, the whole disappearing and thinking Aslan was dead. What the fuck happened between these two anyway? There were too many things to fucking unpack. 

The tension was thankfully broken by their meals arriving, and Mr. Okumura smiled once again, like nothing happened. As if the conversation a while ago never happened. 

"Justine-chan, let me help you with your chopsticks." He plucked the utensil off the table and separated them easily. "Oh, unless you would rather use a fork?"

"No. This is fine." It can't be that hard, yeah?

Aslan gave her an unimpressed glance as he separated his chopsticks as well. They didn't talk during the meal. Mr. Okumura and Aslan barely looked at each other despite the nearly non existent physical distance between them. 

Justine wasn't used to seeing them like this at all. It gave a funny pit in her stomach. In the end, she decided to focus on her hamburger steak instead, feeling like she wouldn't be able to do much for them. 

"Not like that Justine-chan. Like this." Mr. Okumura demonstrated how to pick up food using chopsticks, and she tried her best to do exactly what he was doing but the food just kept slipping.

"Oh no. Would the little baby want someone to feed her?" Aslan added unhelpfully.

"Shut up. I can do this." She tried to pick the meat again before it slipped off her shaking chopsticks and then to the plate where it stared back to her sadly. Aslan snickered at her failed attempt, much to her chagrin.

"Ash, be nice. You eat your noodles on top of rice. That makes your opinion invalid." Mr. Okumura clicked his tongue. "Like this, see?"

"You make it look easy."

"I'm just used to it."

One more pathetic attempt at using chopsticks and Justine sighed. "This isn't working. I'm going to go get a spoon and fork." She got up and wore her shoes again.

"Won't you rather I do it?" Mr. Okumura offered.

"No. It's okay. I got it." It was also part of her devious plan of slipping out of dinner and letting them talk in this romantic setting that looked like a date, but that plan was shot. 

Honestly, trying to get them to fix their shit won't get anywhere at this point. They barely communicate properly. She took her time on purpose. Maybe they could still salvage some kind of romantic date out of this whole affair. Besides, it took her quite some time to actually communicate that she wanted a fork and a spoon, so even if they ask where she went, she would be telling the truth that her Japanese simply sucked. 

When she got what she needed, she trudged slowly to their room. Why did she even want them to be together anyway? What would she get out of it? Was the oblivious flirting really that obnoxious? Was it truly unbearable? Why was she even trying? 

She didn't know how to answer any of that. 

But for some reason she decided to linger outside the sliding doors, just a little away so that her silhouette wasn't obvious from the inside. The thin paper walls were a dead giveaway of someone eavesdropping. Perhaps she just wanted to stall and give them more alone time, maybe it was about something else. But she lingered and she listened to their voices that drafted outside the doors. 

Mr. Okumura was exclaiming in exasperation. Maybe it was a little comforting to know that they didn't let that tension between them grow throughout the dinner. Although maybe quick to forgiveness wasn't actually helping the communication case because everything was being swept under the rug. 

"--no even the way you eat noodles is wrong. Have you not learned anything from when we were in New York?" 

"Oh yeah, the last time we had ramen was in New York. Sorry no. I eat my ramen like this. And I'll always eat my ramen like this." Aslan shot back.

"I let it slide because we were in New York, but we're in Japan. You could at least try to eat it like Japanese people do. You put the rice on the leftover soup. And don't bite it! You slurp your noodles like this!" 

Justine could hear some slurping sounds. 

"I don't wanna slurp my noodles." 

"It's appreciation to the noodle gods!"

"The noodle gods?" Aslan snickered. "Is that actually part of the eight million gods of Izumo thing?"

"Yes."

"You're making this up!"

A laugh. "I'm not!" 

"Well too bad. The noodle god isn't the one eating the noodles." 

"Suck the fucking noodles Ash." Mr. Okumura actually cursing with his choppy and accented (but still better than average) english because of something as trivial as noodles kinda made Justine want to laugh. 

"Well if your mouth is so good at sucking, why don't you go suck something else, huh?" 

"Ah yes, like your tiny weiner." 

Now Justine can't help but laugh. The two stopped bickering and Justine was caught listening outside so she really had no choice but to come back inside. 

"Sorry, don't mind me. By all means continue." Justine giggled at both of their reactions, all puffed up like birds with ruffled feathers. Seriously they act like kids sometimes, if not a bickering married couple then two kindergarten kids fighting it out in the playground using 'yo mama' jokes. For a couple of adults they were really childish. It exasperated Justine to no end.

They didn't exactly continue though. They simply went back to eating even though Mr. Okumura shot Aslan dirty looks and Aslan in turn gave smug grins. 

The dinner continued that way, with more bickering between them as well as the occasional conversation that Justine was able to participate in. By the end of it, Aslan signaled the waiter for the bill.

Before they got home, Mr. Okumura insisted they stopped by an ice cream parlor for dessert, and while Aslan was exasperated over how much Mr. Okumura ate and wondered how the hell he still had space for dessert, Mr. Okumura argued that he technically owed him an ice cream from New York due to some gang business interrupting it.

"This time I will lead you to an ice cream shop." He said.

It was only after Justine was midway her chocolate and vanilla sundae that technically, even with her around, they still acted like they were alone with each other anyway. 

So did this count as a date after all?

Justine pondered about the validity of this victory. 


End file.
